The Irish standard., 1887-01-29

he1Olced az lcn8Cn 10 UIoatn d Pu1o1
atmosphere than that which has been
suAocating US through the last chapter
We request the reader return, for the
last time, Nth us to the sleeper and hls
blue-eyed sentinel, in the parlor of the
inn. Theinterestw which she had evinced
the old man, and which had excited so fo1
much astonishment in his mind, did not
appear to subside after she had accom-
plished the object which she desired,
and beheld him once more locked in the
unconsciousness of profound repose.
She remained pacing softly and anxiousiy
through the room. sometimes pressing
her brow with her expanded palm, at
others clasping and wringing her hands
hard. but with perfectly noiseless action
now starting and biting her thin lip
as the voice of Nancy and the preacher
in the kitchen made her dread the wax
ing of her guest-now gazing fondly
toward the old mans bed, while her
large soft eyes became watery, and her
wasted and yellow countenence changed
and saddened uLder the influence of
some melancholy associations, until she
stretched her arms forth to their furthest
limit, and her bosom heaved and painted
with longing tenderness-and then, by
a sudden transition, shuddering with
horror. gathering her hands fearfully
to her bosom. and endeavoring by an
impatient gesture to shake off the
startling recollection, whatever it was,
that had checked the flowing kindness
At another time as she crept across the
room, the valise of the Palantine caught
her eye, and made her start and tremble
so violently. that it seemed to require a
powerful effort of self-command to pre-
vent her renewing the wild cry of agony
with which she had before startled the
household. She then, with light, tip
toe movement, crept to the bedside,
seemed about to lift the dimity curtain,
paused, clasped her hands, looked up
ward, and finally withdrew it, and gazed
upon the sleeper.
tsHis!" she exclaimed, muttering, in a
soft whisper link from the chain Of her
silent conference with her own heart
s'his!---Oif if I could only by tears,
and kneeling and moistening the very
dust about his feet, obtain his that I
wronged more cruelty than by saying q
word of truth in his ear! O how softly,
and kindly, and warmly his word of
anger and command fell upon my heart!
I thought was child again, and that
my own father stood before me. Where
is my father now! Ay, have you q
father, you miserable dupe?-You rob-
ber's wife! you worse robber than the
worst, you plunderer of the old mans
peace! you thief of his rest and happi-
nessl-and for what?-For- "here an un-
easy motion of the sleeper alarmed her.
She let the curtain fall, and taking her
seat on a low chair near the bed, she
commenced, in that low ana murmurhg
melody of tone which Irish nurses use
to lull the ear of infancy, and which
scarcely exceeds in the extent of its COM
pass or the variety of its intonation the
drowsy rise and fall of the hum of sum-
mer breeze, a simple and plaintive air,
the words OF which, rude as they were,
we will venture to transcribe:
The mie-na-mallah now is past,
wirra-sthrul U wirra-sthrul
And must leave my home at last,
wirra-sthru! o wirra-sthru!
Hook into my fathers eyes
Ihear my mothers parting sighs-
All, fool 10 pine for other ties
wirra-sthru! U wtrra-sthrul
This evening they must sit alone,
wirra-sthru! . wirra-sthrui
They'lltalk of me when am gone.
wirra-sthrul o wirra sthrul
Who now will cheer my weary sire.
When toll and care his heart snail ureT
Ny chair is empty by the drel
O wirra-sthrul wirra-sthrul
How sunny looks my pleasant homei
wirra-sthrul wirra-sthru
Those flowers for me shall never bloom
wirra-sthrul o wirra-sthrul
seek new friends, and an told,
That they are rich in lands and gold,
Ahl will they love me like the old2
O wirra-sthrul O wirrarsthrul
FAREWELL dear friends, we meet no more
Owirra-sthrul o wirra-sthrul
My hu-band's horse is at the doorl
wirrasthrul O wirra-sthrul
Ah. lovel ah, love, be kind to me:
For by this breaking heart you see
How dearly have purchased theel
Owirra sthrul o Owirra-sthrul
As the singer paused on the last ca
dence Of the air, the pathos and SIM
plicity of which she rendered infinitely
touching by the delicate management Of
a voice of great softness and tenderness
of tone, short -breathed sigh proceeding